


Dogs of War

by Louise_Hargadon



Category: Def Leppard
Genre: Band Fic, Domestic, Fluff, Gen, Humor, Puppy Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-15
Updated: 2017-03-15
Packaged: 2018-10-05 17:17:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10313201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Louise_Hargadon/pseuds/Louise_Hargadon
Summary: Rick and Sav come home one afternoon with a new friend, but can't agree on what to call him...  Just a silly bit of nonsense for a Wednesday afternoon!!!





	

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: For my little pal who I have forced into watching more Def Leppard than is probably healthy. In fact I think I've broken her a few times. But it isn't really my fault. It's these five big dorks being dorky and lovable and adorable and ugh. Stop, guys. Just.
> 
> Disclaimer: Def Leppard, distressingly, do not belong to me. None of them. Which is a shame. They also probably never co-owned a puppy. Which is also a shame because it would have been glorious. This is entirely a work of fiction and labour of love and no Leppards or puppies were harmed in the making of this story.

**Dogs of War**

 

“For the last time, his name is Bonzo!”

Phil and Steve heard Rick's muffled yet unmistakably angry voice outside. They looked at each other quizzically, but said nothing.

“No, Rick, we talked about this. His name is Freddie!” Sav said, letting out a growl of frustration as he slammed the door open.

“There was no conversation! I said 'Let's call him Bonzo' and you said 'We can't because his name is Freddie'!” Rick shouted behind him.

“THAT WAS CALLED 'TALKING'!” Sav shouted back. Phil grabbed Steve's arm, a worried look on his face.

“It's not like those two to get angry with each other,” he whispered. Steve shrugged, but before he had time to answer, they both heard a sound they hadn't expected.

“Woof! Woof-woof!”

Phil gasped loudly. “Steve... they've got a puppy,” he whispered, so excited he could barely contain himself.

“They've got a puppy! Phil! They've got a puppy!” Steve said, a seven thousand kilowatt smile instantly taking over his entire face.

“We've got a puppy!” Rick said, walking into the living room with a chocolate Labrador puppy under his arm. Both guitarists were so excited at the sight of the puppy that neither of them quite knew what to do with themselves, so they ended up bouncing up and down on the sofa, clutching each other by the shoulders.

“His name is Freddie,” Sav said. Rick rolled his eyes.

“His name is Bonzo,” he said.

“Freddie.”

“Bonzo.”

“Why can't you call him Hendrix?” Phil asked. Rick and Sav glared at him and he raised his hands in defeat. “It was just a suggestion!”

“Have you asked the puppy what he wants to be called?” Steve asked. Rick and Sav opened and closed their mouths to answer but found that they genuinely had no idea what to say in response. Phil nodded.

“Steve's right, guys. You can't just give a dog a name without asking him about it,” Phil said.

“He's a dog, Phil,” Sav said, as slowly and gently as he would explain something to a very small child.

“I know he's a dog, but he's got feelings too! He might not want a silly name like Freddie or Bonzo!” Phil said, taking the puppy from Rick and tickling it behind the ears, much to the puppy's delight.

“What's silly about being called Freddie?! Freddie Mercury is called Freddie!” Sav said, raising his voice indignantly.

“Well, his name isn't really Freddie, he changed it,” Steve said. Sav nodded enthusiastically and let out a jubilant 'Aha!'

“See, he CHOSE to be called Freddie because it's a great name!” he said.

“And what's so silly about being called Bonzo?” Rick demanded. Rick, Steve and Phil stared at him wordlessly for a few moments. “Well. It's a good name for a dog,” he mumbled, grumpily.

They heard the clatter of heavy footsteps bounding down the stairs and a few moments later Joe burst through the living room door.

“What's going on – you got a puppy!” he shouted, taking the puppy from Phil and fussing over it. “Who's a handsome boy! Yes I know it's me, but it's you too, you are a good boy, yes you are, you are a good boy! What's your name?”

“Bonzo,” Rick said.

“Freddie,” Sav said.

“I suggested Hendrix,” Phil added. Joe looked up at Phil and shook his head.

“Don't be ridiculous, Phil,” he said. “Well, you know, there's a long history of rock stars having puppies. Keith Moon had a Great Dane called Bonzo-”

“SEE!” Rick shouted, raising a clenched fist in the air triumphantly.

“-Paul McCartney had an Old English Sheepdog called Martha, he wrote Martha My Dear on the White Album about her,” Joe said, almost unaware that Rick had interrupted him. “Eric Clapton's dog Jeep was on the cover of There's One in Every Crowd, Robert Plant wrote Bron-Y-Aur Stomp about his dog Strider, named after one of Aragorn's aliases in Lord of the Rings, Freddie Mercury even had a cat called Delilah he wrote Innuendo about!”

“Oh god,” Sav muttered. “He's off again.”

Joe put the puppy on the floor and continued his ramble. He explained to the rest of the band that pets had set the tone for rock music since the beginning of time. If it hadn't been for Elvis Presley's hound dog who was rubbish at catching rabbits, he said, rock may never have flourished. He continued his explanation while Steve went into the kitchen and started making lunch for everyone. His explanation of the longstanding relationship between dogs and musicians going back as far as the days of the caveman beating their rudimentary drums and chanting round the campfire while the wolves slept beside them. The rest of the band sat and ate their sandwiches that Steve had made and talked among themselves while Joe continued to explain how important dogs were in the musician's psyche.

Phil and Sav started working on a new song together shortly after lunch. Rick started to teach the puppy how to sit and lie down, but ended up giving the puppy too many treats simply for looking cute and as a result the puppy developed a sugar high and ran around the house for over half an hour, stopping every now and again to chew on Phil's moose slippers. Joe was still talking about how important pets were in rock'n'roll and had even cited Michael Jackson's pet chimp Bubbles as an example of how animals can influence an artist for the better.

“So what are you calling it?” Joe finally asked. “Hey, what's for dinner?” he said, his stomach suddenly starting to growl at him. Phil and Sav looked up at him and frowned.

“It's nearly tea-time,” Sav said. “Steve made us all lunch about four hours ago when you were telling us about Freddie Mercury's cat Delilah!”

“What about me?” Joe asked.

“You ate lunch with us!” Phil said.

“Did I?”

“I made you bacon and egg and you went on a side ramble about it being Marc Bolan's favourite dinner, he'd said so in an interview with Melody Maker in 1972,” Steve said, poking his head around the living room door. “Anyone seen the pup?”

“He was teaching the dog how to sit last time I saw him,” Sav said.

“I can't find the dog!” Rick shouted in a panicked voice from upstairs.

“Bloody 'ell Rick! You were looking after him!” Sav shouted back.

“He's nippy for a thing with little legs!” Rick argued.

“He can't have got far, none of the doors are open,” Phil said, and the band dutifully began searching the house for the puppy.

“Freddie!” Sav called, looking in the bath and under the toilet seat.

“Bonzo!” Rick called, opening the fridge door and making sure the puppy hadn't hidden behind the already open packet of sausages.

“Hendrix!” Phil called, looking under the dining table.

“SHUT UP, PHIL!” the rest of the band called back. Phil shrugged.

“I think it's a nice name,” he muttered.

“Heeeere, Puppy-Pup!” Steve called, looking under a pile of clothes on Phil's bedroom floor and then opening the drawers of his bedside cabinet just in case he'd somehow managed to crawl inside.

“BLOODY HELL!” Joe shouted from his bedroom.

“Joe's found him!” Rick shouted. Phil and Rick ran upstairs to join the others in Joe's bedroom. Sure enough, the puppy was sat on Joe's unmade bed, having happily destroyed his blanket by tearing it to shreds with his teeth, and having also destroyed his bedsheet by using it as a toilet.

“Bloody hell!” Joe repeated. “Did you do this?!” he demanded, pointing at the puppy. The puppy looked up at him and licked his finger. “Stop being cute, lad, you've pissed on my bed and eaten my blanket!” The puppy wagged his tail happily and then rolled onto his back. “No! Don't give me that look!”

“He's a rock'n'roll pup already!” Sav said, quite proudly.

“That's right! Wrecking bedrooms and whizzing on the bed – what a rock dog!” Phil said with a chuckle. Steve snapped his fingers and let out a shout of victory.

“That's what we should call him!” he said.

“What?” Rick asked.

“Wizzard!” Steve said. He was instantly met with four groans of despair and a bark of delight. “See! Wizzard likes it, don't you, Wizzard!”

“Woof!”

“Bloody hell. You had to bring a Roy Wood fan into the house,” Joe said, a little put out.

“We'll leave you to sort your mess out, Joe,” Rick said, clapping him on the shoulder.

“Wait a minute, it's your dog!”

“It's _**our**_ dog, Joe,” Sav said. “You've got to learn to take care of him sometime!”

“Yeah, a dog's for life, not just for Christmas! Even if it is July!” Phil said, sternly. Steve giggled impishly and Joe rolled his eyes. Wizzard sat up on Joe's bed and waited expectantly for him to do something.

“Wizzard! Only Steve would come up with that!” Joe mumbled to himself. He picked Wizzard up and tickled him behind the ears as he started walking downstairs. “Well, Wizzard. Let me tell you about your namesake. Did you know that when he was in the Move back in 1968, Roy Wood adopted a Shetland Collie named Alfred, and one day they were out for a walk and Alfred ran off down a road that was lined either side with blackberry hedges and that's how the song Blackberry Way came about. It's so interesting how dogs can influence the progression of a musician's work...”

Within moments, Wizzard had fallen fast asleep in Joe's arms.

 

**THE END**

 


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